


But I'm an Incubus!

by daemoninwhite



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: Alternate Universe - Demons, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Dehumanization, Demons, M/M, Rough Sex, incubus Jason Todd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:49:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22087435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daemoninwhite/pseuds/daemoninwhite
Summary: It’s finals and Jason is looking to graduate with honors. Time to give a random human the best night of their life.
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Jason Todd
Comments: 25
Kudos: 289





	But I'm an Incubus!

**Author's Note:**

> The word _incubus_ is derived from Late Latin _incubo_ “a nightmare influenced by such a demon” from _incubare_ “to lie upon.”
> 
> If you read this on a site other than AO3 or Tumblr, it's been stolen! Friendly reminder that if you want offline reading, you can download right from AO3 itself.

Jason Todd is an incubus. Or rather, he will be, once be passes his final exams and is officially licensed. He’s a demon – of course he’s part of academia and bureaucracy.

He climbs out of hell next to a road, in front of a sign that, under a truly impressive amount of graffiti, reads ‘Welcome to Gotham’. One particularly enterprising, or perhaps pissed off soul as spray painted ‘abandon hope all ye who enter here’ across the entire sign. They’re right, through they probably don’t know it – groups of humans attract demons much the same way herds of antelope attract lions, and any city in such close proximity to a portal to hell is automatically doomed.

Jason takes a deep, calming breath and scrubs a hand through his hair. It’s time to stop procrastinating – this particular exam isn’t timed as so much as it will look good on his transcript to finish it quickly. He takes another breath, deeper, more intent, and rolls the taste/scent of lust across his tongue. It tastes different to everyone: to Jason, lust tastes/smells rich, fatty and savoury, like a piece of meat perfectly marbled with fat.

 _There_.

He smirks and stretches his senses outwards, searching for the source of the lust. Something in his head pings and he steps forward, scenery blurs around him, and when his foot hits the ground he’s inside a bedroom. His prey has left the bedroom window open and the full moon illuminates the scene perfectly.

His prey sleeps on its back, and the night is hot enough that it’s both not wearing any clothing and has kicked the sheets off. It’s attractive, in as much as a human can be considered attractive. Jason can experience attraction to them, of course, otherwise he’d never have got through nearly three years of study about the best ways to seduce them. They don’t have wings, or tails, or horns, or claws, or scales, so there goes all the things Jason usually finds attractive, but they are warm and soft. It’s inviting. It’s _vulnerable_. It makes Jason’s instincts perk up and his mouth starts to water.

“Hey cutie,” he purrs and crawls on top of his prey, careful not to disturb its slumber. He leans close to its head and exhales a fine mist of magic. It crawls into his prey’s dreams, memories, and fantasies and Jason’s body warps as he becomes the culmination of what it finds there.

He runs his hands over his new hips and up over his new chest and smirks – seems like this prey actually has decent taste. Jason’s new form is _delicious_ , his thighs, chest and arms are thick with muscle, his skin is soft and smooth but with enough intriguing scars to give it some decent texture. Whoever this prey is, it likes a fighter, and has either seen this form naked, or – he admires the size of his cock – has a strong case of wishful thinking.

His magic flows through the room and between one breath and the next they’re in a much different room. Jason doesn’t really know much about human culture – he doesn’t need to, his type of sex isn’t the kind that typically includes an interrogation into the socio-political structure of the prey’s city, and his magic bridges what gaps are left. 

It’s clearly some sort of official room, you don’t decorate this aggressively industrialised just for fun. The room is minimal: Jason’s sitting in an uncomfortable chair in front of a desk that’s bolted to the ground and there’s another identical chair across from him. The lighting is harsh and unflattering – Jason pouts. Regardless of what his form is, he always looks best by soft, warm light. Candlelight, or sunset, that sort of thing; fluorescent tubes, not so much.

It’s not the typical playground for a fantasy – honestly, Jason hadn’t expected things to change so drastically. If pressed, he would’ve put money on a more luxurious version of the bedroom that exists in real life. Still, if humans didn’t have fetishes and fantasies they’d repressed, he’d have to go into a different line of work. 

The magic settles and his prey appears. It’s wearing a uniform of some kind, although Jason’s sure that the real version isn’t quite so tight. Credit where it’s due, even in its fantasy, it seems to look exactly like the naked specimen that’s underneath Jason in the real world.

“Hi ya, gorgeous,” Jason purrs. His voice is deep with the slightest hint of a rasp, perfect for seduction.

His prey swallows. “Listen, this isn’t the first time we’ve picked you up for soliciting.”

Jay stretches and lets his mouth curl into what he knows is a sly grin. “I just can’t seem to help myself when you’re around.”

His prey sighs. “Jay, we’ve talked about this before.”

A shiver of unease goes down Jason’s spine. His prey shouldn’t know anything about him, shouldn’t be thinking about _him_ , his magic shifts Jay until he looks like whatever it is the prey wants to be fucked into the ground by. 

It. It must be a coincidence. 

He rolls his shoulders to try and ease out his tension. If this doesn’t go smoothly, he can back out and try again, the human will just chalk it up to a weird dream. Won’t look the best on his transcript, but it won’t be a deal breaker.

“There’s just something about you-” his magic whispers to him “-Dick.”

His prey sits down in the other chair. It leans across the table and looks Jay straight in the eye. It looks as though it’s trying to appear earnest, but when Jason bites his lower lip and slowly allows the plump flesh to spring free, its eyes track the movement helplessly.

“Jay, you shouldn’t-”

Enough. Jason reaches forward and twists a hand into the thick hair at the back of his prey’s head. He hauls it forward until it’s close enough that it’ll feel Jason’s breath when he exhales – and, more importantly, inhale the magic meant to get it relaxed.

“I know, baby,” Jason croons. His prey shudders and its eyelashes flutter. Jay can’t stop a smirk from spreading across his face. “Don’t you ever get tired of that? Having to say ‘no’ and ‘don’t’?” He leans forward and whispers in its ear, “Don’t you ever want to just let go and _relax_?”

The prey struggles. Its kind always does. “I—I, no, I, I.” He gulps in air and it sounds almost like a sob. “Jay, I _can’t_ , I can’t, whatever I want or feel, I _can’t_ -”

“Ssshhh,” Jason soothes and places a slow, lingering kiss just under its ear. The prey positively _quivers_ and Jason has to hide a smile that he knows will show too many teeth. In real life he leans down and inhales the arousal seeping out of the prey.

He salivates.

Such repression. This is going to be _delicious_.

“It’s OK, everything’s fine,” he coos. He softens his grip, runs his hands over the prey’s neck, measures the breadth of its shoulders. “I want it too.”

The magic words.

His prey snaps. 

It grabs Jason’s face, holds him still and descends upon him. Jason will give it this much: it knows how to kiss very, very well, and Jason has made a formal study of the subject. Its mouth is warm and wet and greedy, and Jason is dazed enough by the swell of _relief_ from the real body that it is able to press forward, to dominate. 

Jason bites its lip and when the prey draws back, presses his tongue to the sting. He is not attempting to censure it, he can eat fast as well as he can eat slow, but this is going to be graded and Jason wants it to last long enough that he is able to show what he has learnt.

“Sorry,” the prey pants.

Its eyes shine and it. It smiles at Jason.

Jason doesn’t flinch. His web of magic doesn’t stutter. But in real life he does …. still.

Jason is a demon and regardless of whatever else he does he will always be a demon and no one… no one…

He will make the feeding good, he decides. Not just technically perfect, not just a methodical examination of the prey to gather the most possible pleasure from it, but … good.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs. Humans adore flattery and he imagines that a specimen like his prey must hear this sort of thing frequently.

Its eyes dart away and its ears heat slightly. Jason rubs the tip of his nose against the heat and allows himself to giggle as the blush rapidly expands.

“No, you,” it says and draws him into another kiss.

This is a dream, and so Jason runs his hands across his prey’s chest, decides he dislikes the scratch of the material and melts it away with every touch. He climbs across the table and onto its lap so that he can undress it more without drawing away from the kisses.

He picked the perfect prey. It’s wonderfully muscled, not as thick as the body it built Jason, not the body of a brawler but the body of a gymnast. It must have enough access to resources, its skin is smooth and warm and invites further touch.

So Jason does, sliding his hands across shoulders and pectorals, down its ribs and obliques and abdomen. Time is fluid in the dreamscape and so he’s able to spend as much time as he likes doing so, just touching it with his hands, with his fingertips, allowing the body’s scars and callouses to scrape and catch and sensitise the skin. The prey touches Jason in return, his clothes disappear as easily as the prey’s did, and the prey seems to find as much delight in exploring Jason as Jason does it. 

“Jay, Jay, Jay,” it pants, chants, and a part of Jason feels very small, feels pinned.

His prey nuzzles into Jason’s neck and he tips his head to the side, invites further touch even as his own hands dip beneath the prey’s waistband.

He moans but in his real body he rolls his eyes.

The prey is wearing _underwear_.

(It’s like it doesn’t know what sort of dream this is.)

The rest of their clothes vanish. He climbs to his feet, pulls his prey with him—Jason wants to touch more, he, fuck this is such a stupid setting, where are they supposed to-

The prey pushes Jason. His back hits the table and the prey steps forward, hitches Jason’s legs up around its waist.

Unease prickles down Jason’s spine and he laughs awkwardly as he pushes on his prey’s shoulders. “Think you got it all wrong, darling,” he attempts to purr, “don’t you just want to relax and let me take care of you?”

It snorts, shakes its head. “I’ve been watching you shake that ass at me for months and have had to let you go. I’ve watched you give it up to anyone who’ll pay you, and I, I.” Its mouth works soundlessly, and it gives up and snarls. It grabs Jason’s ass and digs its fingers into the plump flesh. “I’ve wanted you for so long.”

“Yes, but-”

The prey kisses Jason. Devours him. 

Jason knows starvation like only a creature who must eat but has never eaten known starvation. He _knows_ hunger and what it will drive a person to do. He knows how choices fray and fade away until there is only one path left.

He … may have made a mistake.

The prey lifts one hand—Jason is hyperaware of how blood spills under the skin, how he is already bruising in the dreamscape even as his real body remains pristine—and pushes two fingers into Jason. They are in a dream, and Jason is a demon, and so his body opens easily even as he is nearly knocked dizzy with the rush of lust that pours from his prey.

“Tight,” his prey snarls and sets his teeth against Jason’s collarbone. He traces the length of it, slides up towards the arc of his shoulder, and pulls off to suck a series of bruises marching across his shoulder and to the base of his neck. “You’ve had how many men and they’ve left you so _tight_. No wonder you sell it—no one has been treating you like you need, have they?” He bites his way up to Jason’s mouth. “Don’t worry baby, I’ll leave you gaping,” he promises, exhaling against Jason’s suddenly sensitive lips.

Jason curls his thighs and arms around his prey and hauls him in until there is barely a whisper of room between their bodies. “Promises, promises,” he mocks.

His prey shifts down a little, twists his arm and sinks another two fingers into him. He pulls his fingers apart and Jason’s entire body flinches at the stretch, his head tips back and he can’t stop himself from crying out. It should hurt, his borrowed-human body knows that, but his prey wants, needs to please him and instead it just feels _good_.

His prey laughs, a deep, dark rumble. “You’re always so mouthy,” he mumbles.

Anger flashes through Jason.

He opens his mouth but his prey interrupts, kisses the corner of his mouth and pets at Jason’s insides. He twists them around, opens and closes them, and the push and the pull, the fact that his prey is forcing Jason’s body to open, to accept him, is, is, it is.

“Fuck me,” Jason hisses.

His prey groans like he’s been punched in the gut. He pulls back and little, rearranges a little, and then two hands clamps around Jason’s hips and his prey pulls Jason onto his cock.

It hurts, he’s longer than his fingers and there’s parts of Jason that are unstretched and dry, but it still feels so, so, _so_ good.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

“I always, I always— _Jesus fucking Christ_ —just like I always-”

Jason strikes, bites, faster than a pissed-off snake. “Fuck _me_!”

His prey laughs breathlessly, “Baby, what the fuck do you think I’m doing?”

“ _Talking_.”

“Got—fuck, fuck—me there sweetheart.”

He shifts his weight, pulls Jason into a slightly different position, his hips entirely off the table, all his weight on his upper back, and _sensation_ —

“ _Fuck_ , yes, like that!”

Jason pulls him in close. Their foreheads press together, they pant against one another’s mouth, but they’re both too impatient for tenderness and his prey pulls back, slides away until he can press his forehead to the crook of Jason’s neck and the arches of their backs form a circle and he can put some real power behind his thrusts, can _snap_ his hips into Jason, and, and it’s, it’s, he’s, they’re—

“ **Jason!** ”

His prey stiffens, warmth fills Jason, and then he is just back in reality. He pants, disorientated and irrationally empty, but, but … yes, this is proper, and before it can dissipate further, he inhales the energy produced by the prey’s orgasm. 

He rolls his shoulders, rolls the taste of his prey’s energy across his tongue like it’s wine.

It’s delicious.

He places two fingers on each of his prey’s temples and concentrates for a moment—his prey is fine, it has moved into a deeper stage of sleep and collapsed the dreamscape, as is supposed to happen.

So, he can do _something_ right, at least.

Jason shifts back so that his weight is on the prey’s knees and stares unseeingly up at the bedroom ceiling. _Four **hundred**_ years of study _wasted_. 

He sighs. If he’s lucky, most of his credits should transfer over to the succubus course.

**Author's Note:**

> Succubus: “The word is derived from Late Latin _succuba_ “paramour”, from _succubare_ “to lie beneath”, used to describe this … supernatural being’s implied sexual position…”
> 
> Notes: did I write this entire fic to make a shitty “joke” (incubi are supposed to penetrate whilst succubi are penetrated) that occurred to me as soon as I read this [ask](https://whumpbby.tumblr.com/post/187128222384/incubusjason-finds-officer-grayson-and-is-very)on whumpbby’s tumblr, specifically this line: “Officer Grayson however is a lot harder to seduce than Jay expects and even takes the dominant lead when it comes to sex with topping”? Yes. Yes, I did. The title is a reference to ‘But I’m a Cheerleader’ a wlw film in which the main character asserts that she cannot be gay because she’s a cheerleader. Jay can’t be the bottom because he’s an incubus.  
> Listen, I said the joke was shitty, OK?  
> Jaycubus anon, baby, whoever and wherever you are, I hope you enjoyed this.


End file.
